- Practice What You Teach: Keeping Teaching Real through the Evolution of Your Personal Practice
- It's All in the Hips, Or Is It?
- Day or Night? Body and Mind Considerations for Scheduling Your Yoga Practice
- This Yoga Love Affair (Part Two): Making it Last a Lifetime
- This Yoga Love Affair: A Collage of Views on How to Keep Your Yoga Practice Sustainable Over One Year
- To Be Thankful Without Grasping and Real Without Apologizing
- When Burnout Knocks: The Struggle of Keeping Teaching Healthy, Honest, and Vibrant
- Living Yoga Off The Mat
- Tuning Up Mind and Body: How Yoga and Sound Therapy Work in Harmony
- Making It to the Mat: What Yoga Teachers Need to Know About the Most Difficult Part of the Practice
King snakes, Kula and Kundalini
When I took the plunge and committed 26 days to Yandara, Baja and the beginning of my path as a yoga teacher, my mother asked me, "are you ever coming home?". My response was of course "yes mom, don't worry."
Well, I did come home but made my way back to Yandara, this time on staff. I couldn't stay away. Why? Friends, family and boyfriend have all asked, attempting to understand and support my departure from beautiful Colorado and a flourishing acting career to be at Yandara.
King snakes, kula and kundalini have become my best answer.
One morning, as I happily walked towards the beach for my morning meditation, I was approached by an extremely distraught student. She had come across a beautiful king snake trapped in the netting of the garden. My feelings about snakes are essentially fear and discomfort. However, seeing her distress, I found myself speaking from a calm confident space. I assured her that I would take care of the situation and sent her to class. I know nothing about snakes but I know how to defer. Early morning text messages went out to the staff and I started walking looking for signs of awake people to help.
I came to the home of Mercy and Das, two of the incredible musicians whom bring the gift of music to Yandara and was greeted warming despite my early morning disruption. Moments later, we were headed towards the garden with all the necessary tools and love to save this snake.
By the time we arrived, Jon, organizer of all things behind the scenes at Yandara (still in pajamas), had cut the snake from the net and was patiently working to unwind him from his prison of mesh. Me, still being a useless scaredy cat watched as this beautiful trio slowly worked together to free our new friend. This is kula. Community. I was overwhelmed with appreciation for the way in which this community came together over an animal which most people find scary and better, not alive.
Lastly kundalini. I should clarify. Regardless of whether I experience what I think is kundalini energy or not, makes no difference to me when it comes to worthwhile meditation. However, when I finally did make it to the beach to meditate that day, I dedicated my meditation to the king snake and to kula. From that space I believe I experienced kundalini rising-the awakening of the female serpent at the base of my spine for the first and thus far only time.
So when people ask me, "why Yandara?" I often respond, "king snakes, kula and kundalini."